


Trade Secrets

by draculard



Category: Star Wars: Thrawn Ascendancy Trilogy - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, Humor, Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M, Mind Control, Public Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:29:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27712736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/draculard/pseuds/draculard
Summary: The Navigator's Guild is full of secrets, and these so-called humans Thrawn keeps talking about aren't the only ones who know how to have fun with the Force.AKA, Qilori finally convinces Thrawn to shut the hell up.
Relationships: Qilori/Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	Trade Secrets

“Did you know—”

Qilori let his eyes slide closed, mentally mourning the loss of a fragile silence he’d so carefully brokered between himself and his least-favorite person, Senior Captain Thrawn. Next to him, sitting in the pilot’s seat, Thrawn was cheerfully looking over the console as he once again attempted to engage Qilori in a chat.

“—I recently meant a human who feels the Great Presence as well?” Thrawn continued. 

Qilori stayed quiet, hoping Thrawn would just let him sit there passively while he rambled. No such luck; the Chiss glanced sideways at him, then turned fully to face him, staring openly at Qilori with an expectant look on his face.

“Did you know?” he prompted.

Qilori grit his teeth. “No,” he said, not bothering to sound polite. “What the hell is a human, anyway?”

“Bipedal primate creatures, not so different from yourself,” Thrawn said with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Practically hairless, not very strong, a bit irrational—”

“You said you met one who can feel the Great Presence?” Qilori interrupted, his voice strained. Thrawn took the interruption without offense. Quite the opposite — he seemed to interpret it, _incorrectly_ , as a sign that Qilori was interested. With a spark in his eye, he leaned closer to Qilori and rested his elbows on his knees.

“Indeed,” he said. “Although he referred to it as the Force, as though it were more of an object or tool to be used than an entity to filter through a host vessel.”

“Mm-hmm,” said Qilori, projecting his disinterest as hard as he could.

“Did you know some of them actually display signs of telekinesis, not just precognition?” Thrawn continued.

Qilori eyed him at that. This guy was the epitome of Chissplaining. What, he thought just because he’d met a Navigator or two that he knew how the Great Presence works?

“Tons of people can do that,” said Qilori. “Sorry to burst your bubble.”

Thrawn’s bubble didn’t seem burst. He scooted his chair closer to Qilori, eyebrows raised in obvious invitation. “Tell me more,” he said.

Qilori’s head whipped around to see if Thrawn was serious. Oh, God. He was. 

“Trade secret,” said Qilori, his voice clipped.

“Ah.” Thrawn sat back in his chair, languidly crossing his legs and giving Qilori a perfunctory nod. He turned back to his console. “There’s no shame in admitting you can’t do it, Qilori. Everyone has his own specific set of talents and weaknesses. We must learn to cultivate our own skills and not envy others for—”

Insufferable bastard.

“It’s not _hard_ , Thrawn,” Qilori snapped. He waved his hand, levitating his cup of tea, and was gratified to see Thrawn go absolutely silent. “See? Telekinesis. Big whoop.”

The long silence that followed was music to his ears. Thrawn studied the levitating cup without expression.

“Bit of a wobble,” he commented, pointing to the bottom of the cup. 

Qilori almost dropped the cup. He scowled at it and saw that there was indeed a bit of a wobble. “Well, I’d like to see you do better,” he said, setting the cup back down with a wave of his hand. 

Thrawn politely demurred. For a brief moment, they both lapsed into a silence that was almost comfortable; Thrawn scanned his console, saw nothing unusual going on, and hummed in thought. 

“What else can you do?” he asked.

Qilori glanced sideways at him and made no attempt to hide his glare.

“Can you levitate a person?” Thrawn asked mildly. “I imagine it would take a great deal more effort and concentration — and considering the wobble on a three-ounce cup—”

With a jerk of his hand, Qilori wrenched Thrawn up and out of his chair. Thrawn’s arms shot out, but there was nothing to grab onto; for a moment, his boots scrabbled on the floor as Qilori lost his grip, and then the Great Presence took hold and Thrawn’s boots left the ground entirely. He balanced awkwardly a few inches off the ground, his legs wavering as Qilori fought for a good grip. Thrawn was right — it was much, much harder to lift a person than a cup.

“Remarkable,” said Thrawn, his voice even. He glanced down at the ground and tried to lift his foot, then let out an undignified squeak as the move shattered Qilori’s hold and Thrawn’s legs slipped out from under him, leaving him dangling upside-down. Qilori grit his teeth; he was barely able to keep Thrawn’s head from smashing against the ground.

Thrawn stared back at him, eyes placid, hair dangling away from his forehead. “You’re not very skilled yet,” he commented. “Are you new at this?”

Oh, the temptation to drop him was strong. Instead, Qilori tightened his face into a grimace of concentration and slowly, carefully turned Thrawn right-side-up again before lowering him until the soles of his boots once again touched the ground. Thrawn’s awkward posture abated as soon as Qilori let him go; he adjusted his uniform with dignity.

“The human I met—” Thrawn started.

Using the Great Presence, Qilori pushed Thrawn back down into his chair so harshly that he heard a quiet ‘whumph’ of air escaping Thrawn’s lungs. “I don’t want to hear about your human,” he growled. “I just want to do my job, get paid, and get the hell out of here. Okay?”

For a long moment, he could feel Thrawn watching him.

“We’re not navigating right now,” he said eventually, his voice even. “There’s no job to do.”

Qilori shook his head silently.

“What else can you do?” Thrawn prompted.

“I’m not a performing Kowakian monkey-lizard,” Qilori said, crossing his arms. “Find something better to do with your time.”

“Can you choke people?” Thrawn asked.

Qilori froze. He inched his chin sideways to stare at Thrawn, whose expression was all innocence.

“I’ve met humans who could choke people,” Thrawn explained. He held his hand out and pinched his fingers together as if to demonstrate. “Even from a distance. Even over a transmission. I think so long as they have a visual…” He trailed off, shrugged, focused on Qilori’s face again. “So can you choke people?”

“No, I can’t _choke_ people,” said Qilori, his voice filled with disbelief. “What do you think I am, some kind of psycho?”

“I just thought—”

“How do you even work up the nerve to _practice_ that?” asked Qilori. “What if you tried it out and just killed someone?”

Thrawn shrugged again. “I don’t think that would be a problem in this scenario.”

 _Not a problem?_ Was _Thrawn_ a psycho? Well, Qilori had always suspected he was. Maybe this shudder-inducing statement was just further evidence of a known hypothesis. He shook his head again. 

“You don’t think it would be a problem if you were choking someone in bed and they just _died?_ ” asked Qilori.

“In bed?” said Thrawn.

Awkward silence reigned between them. Qilori cleared his throat and picked up the Guild-issued simplayer he’d been given before this journey, pretending to lose himself in an insipid video game. Thrawn, damn him, just continued to face Qilori in his chair, staring openly.

“I’ve never been choked in bed,” said Thrawn musingly. “But if you’re not comfortable with it, we can discuss other things.”

Not _comfortable_? Who in their right mind _would_ be comfortable?

“Can you do _other_ things when the Great Presence flows through you?” asked Thrawn. When Qilori cast him a sidelong look, he clarified. “Things other than precognition and telekinesis?”

Qilori scoffed. “Like what?”

“Healing,” said Thrawn at once. “Mind-reading or mind control. Emotional manipulation. Heightened senses, muscular efficiency—”

 _Oh, please shut up,_ Qilori thought. “Aren’t mind control and emotional manipulation the same thing?” he asked.

“I shouldn’t think so,” said Thrawn. He paused, gave it some thought. “Not necessarily. Would you like to try?”

They stared at each other. Qilori’s automatic response was an instant and emphatic no — he didn’t want to try _anything_ with Thrawn, especially experimenting with the Great Presence. But then he reconsidered, giving the big blue bastard a more thoughtful glance. Could he perhaps convince Thrawn to shut the hell up? If so, it might be worth an attempt. 

“You’re considering it,” Thrawn noted, studying Qilori’s blank face. “I suspect you’re planning something rather humiliating. I would suggest—”

With all the weight of the Great Presence in his voice, Qilori said, “Shut up.”

And Thrawn, Senior Captain Thrawn, great Chiss know-it-all, motor-mouth, and asshole-above-all-assholes, actually clamped his mouth shut and didn’t say another word. Qilori’s hand hung in the air, an automatic gesture he’d used without thinking to emphasize his command. A thrill went through him when he saw Thrawn’s eyes flashing, his jaw tightening as he tried and failed to open his mouth.

Oh, this was … Qilori could get used to this. He lowered his hand slowly, letting some satisfaction creep into his face.

“What were you gonna say?” he asked innocently, his voice low. “You were going to suggest something. That I think twice, maybe, before doing anything you wouldn’t agree with?” He paused, cocked his head to the side, failed to hide a giddy smile. “Well, if I do something you don’t agree with, just say so, okay?”

Thrawn’s face darkened. He started to swivel away to study his console, almost pouting, but Qilori stopped him with another wave of his hand, using the Great Presence to hold the chair still. Immediately, Thrawn changed tactics, trying to stand, but Qilori arrested him again, pushing him back down in his chair. He couldn’t help the satisfied smile that spread across his face.

“Let’s see,” he said. “I think you were right earlier, about the difference between mind control and emotional manipulation. Making you shut up, that’s mind control, right?” He studied Thrawn’s face and saw suppressed glimpses of impatience and simmering anger waiting for him. “Let’s try emotional manipulation, then,” he said.

It would be fun to see Thrawn cry, he decided. Only he’d never done emotional manipulation before, strictly speaking. Qilori pasted a confident expression on his face and outstretched his hand, figuring it would at least _look_ impressive, even if it didn’t actually help. With the Great Presence guiding him, he stretched out to Thrawn’s mind and balked almost immediately, losing confidence when he came face-to-face with the orderly ciphers and muted, indistinguishable emotions that made up Thrawn’s godforsaken brain.

Okay, let’s see. Qilori took a breath and closed his eyes. He wanted to humiliate Thrawn. He needed to access his emotions — and since he didn’t seem like the type to cry out of frustration or joy, that meant he had to access sadness, specifically. Could someone like Thrawn even _feel_ sad? What did sadness look like in a brain like that? What would make him sad in the first place?

Being wrong, probably. Making a fool of himself in front of his peers. Getting himself into some terrible situation and needing help from the other Chiss to get out of it again. The Great Presence led Qilori deeper into Thrawn’s brain, following what he could only hope were the right paths, and—

There. A flicker of emotion — God only knew what it was, but it was there. Qilori pounced on it at once, using the strength given to him by the Great Presence to grab hold of it, to wrench it higher and higher, until that emotion was at the forefront of Thrawn’s brain and—

Across from him, there was a strangled moan. Qilori opened his eyes, not comprehending, still wrenching the emotion higher — and saw Thrawn with his head tipped back and his jaw clenched, struggling against the earlier order to stay quiet. Another moan ripped through his throat and died on his lips — but he wasn’t crying. Bewildered, Qilori stoked the emotion he’d managed to grab hold of, glanced down—

Saw the erection straining at Thrawn’s pants.

Oh.

Oh, fuck. That wasn’t what he meant to do at all. Qilori opened his mental hands to let the emotion go, but the Great Presence wasn’t always entirely predictable; it refused to leave him, and the emotion he’d grabbed — arousal, he realized now — clung to his fingers, rocketing higher and higher even as Qilori desperately tried to drop it. 

He watched Thrawn’s thighs spread apart against his will, visibly shaking beneath his uniform with the tension of lust. He watched Thrawn’s back arch and his chest rise and fall with shuddering breaths and stifled, keening gasps for air. Even as Qilori tried to abandon his grip on the emotion, he seemed to accidentally stroke it instead, and couldn’t help but notice Thrawn’s cock jump in response. The movement was visible even beneath his trousers; a spot of pre-cum was soaking through the fabric, growing larger as Thrawn unconsciously rocked his hips, then gave up trying to fight it and palmed himself through his trousers instead, rutting aggressively against his own hand.

Qilori froze, forgetting all intentions he ever had of letting Thrawn go. He watched, hypnotized, as Thrawn bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, still moaning helplessly despite the order to shut up. He watched Thrawn stroke his own cock clumsily through the fabric, too desperate for release to do anything but press down on himself wildly and force as much friction as possible. His cheeks turned hot with arousal; his lips parted, wet with blood and saliva, senseless little gasps escaping him as he fucked into his own hand and—

With trembling hands, Qilori gave the arousal in Thrawn’s mind one last final tweak and watched as Thrawn tensed, shuddered, whined — and came in his own pants on the bridge of his ship, his thighs spread, the new wet spot between his legs on full display.

There was a long, heart-pounding silence. Across from Qilori, Thrawn came back to himself gradually, shaking with release. He wiped his mouth, looked at his consoles with eyes that seemed heavy-lidded and dazed. After a moment, he twisted his chair around and pulled it back up to his console with a deliberate casualness, as if he hadn’t just touched himself in front of Qilori, as if he hadn’t come in his pants like an adolescent — as if he weren’t still sitting in it, letting it dry against his skin. 

Well, Qilori thought, his brain stuttering, his face feeling strangely hot. At least it was quiet now. That was a plus.


End file.
